


Make It Count

by quiet__tiger



Series: In With the New [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, First Time Bottoming, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 14:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10699089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: Bruce gives Clark something special for his birthday.





	Make It Count

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal Mar. 1st, 2008.

Clark sipped his wine, and watched Bruce over the rim of the glass. He had been pleasantly surprised to arrive home after work to find the man setting the table for dinner. Bruce had remembered his birthday, either despite it being a leap year or because of it, and had organized a romantic dinner in his apartment. The tiny table in his small kitchen was a little inadequate for the task, but that’s why words like “intimate” and “cozy” were invented.

Bruce hadn’t seemed to be the type for gestures of this sort, but Clark was learning that there was a lot about Bruce that the stoic man didn’t share. Or maybe he’d just never had a reason to share some things. Part of the compartmentalization of his life. He certainly didn’t have a lot of people to make dinner for, right?

Maybe Alfred had arranged the whole thing.

But coming home from the Planet and finding Bruce dressed nicely but casually, setting silverware and plates on the table, was rather nice. And intriguing. On Bruce’s birthday they’d been fighting robot monster things in Los Angeles and had barely finished a clumsy frottage session before collapsing into sleep at the Manor.

Tonight already seemed to be more promising.

They’d been a couple for almost two full months, and while it had been rocky in some ways, it had been very fulfilling in others. Clark had been a bit doubtful once the original sexual high had passed, even though he had fortified himself to make that fateful first move, but he was feeling much more positive about the whole thing now. They worked well together long before now, but now they squabbled a bit less, and there was a little less tension. Whenever he had to fight the urge to set an infuriating Bruce on fire or knock him out, he thought about what Bruce looked like when he came, and soon Clark had to fight a grin.

They had something special going. He could feel it.

And right now he could feel Bruce’s sock-clad toes rubbing over his ankle.

He focused his attention back on Bruce, and felt his lips twist in a smile as he saw the way Bruce was looking at him. Like he was starving and Clark was his favorite food. It definitely wasn’t an unattractive look, but maybe that was only because Clark knew that Bruce meant well. In another context it might be rather frightening.

“What’s on your mind, Bruce?”

“Just wondering if you’ve enjoyed your birthday.”

Yeah, okay. That’s _all_ he wanted. “I have, actually. There wasn’t too much difficult work to do at the office, and there was cake. And then I came home to find my partner cooking me dinner. It would only be better if you were wearing nothing but an apron.”

Bruce grimaced. “I’m not wearing an apron. _You_ can, though, if you’d prefer.”

“Nah. I was hoping to slip out of this and into nothing.” He tugged at his sweater; he hadn’t gotten changed into anything more comfortable when he came home, preferring to watch Bruce move around his kitchen like he lived there. Actually, sometimes it felt like he did, when he took a day off from one of his jobs and spent the night. It was odd sharing his bed with the man, but it was something he could get used to.

“Funny, I was hoping the same thing.” That was a wicked, wicked gleam in Bruce’s blue eyes. “But first, your present.” He stood and went into the living room. Clark noticed that he seemed to be limping slightly, and he hoped he hadn’t hurt himself too badly as Batman. It might hamper any further activities of the night. He ex-rayed his knees and ankles quickly, but didn’t see anything.

“You already made me dinner.” He looked around. “And cleaned my kitchen.” Alfred’s training, or the Bat’s compulsiveness?

“Well, I saw something you might like.” He came back into the kitchen, the limp less noticeable, and set a prettily decorated box on the table. He sat back down (gingerly?) and watched Clark. “I know you can look right through the wrapping, but humor me and open it.”

“I don’t peek at presents.” He’d had a very disappointing Christmas the year after the X-ray vision had developed. He peeled the ribbon carefully, and tore through the paper slowly. He wasn’t sure if he was teasing himself or Bruce. Finally he made it through to the box and opened it. It was a set of very expensive books, first editions of some of H.P. Lovecraft’s works. They were some his favorites because he’d always felt normal after reading them. More human than alien, anyway. He didn’t have tentacles or anything else weird. And he wasn’t evil.

“Oh, Bruce... Thank you.” He looked back up to Bruce, who wore the same dopey grin he did the second time they kissed, before the ball dropped on New Year’s. Until that night Clark hadn’t known that Bruce even had a dopey grin, but that was a night of firsts.

“You’re welcome. I couldn’t resist.”

“You didn’t have to. I mean, I didn’t get you anything this nice.” For a moment he couldn’t even remember what he’d given him. Something about basketball tickets. It was tough to buy things for a man who could do or buy whatever he wanted.

“Don’t worry about it. How often do I get to spoil someone? And the night isn’t even over yet.”

Of course it wasn’t. Most people probably hadn’t eaten dinner yet. But what else could Bruce have planned? Cake? _Pie_?

“Stop thinking about food. I thought we could do something else first.” There was a different gleam in those blue eyes now, the gleam that went straight to Clark’s groin.

“Oh yeah? And what might that be?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

“Fellatio, masturbation, or frottage.”

“Something like that.” He grinned but then leaned towards Clark and let the smile drop off his face. “If you’re up for it.”

When was Clark ever not up for it? Ever since that first time at the Manor, they’d fooled around regularly, and he’d gotten quite used to it. He smiled and was hard in seconds, and the only physical contact they’d had in more than an hour was Bruce’s foot on his ankle.

He stood and pulled Bruce to his feet, kissing him before he was fully erect. Well, fully standing. Bruce was pressing a hard-on into his hip as he kissed him back. The first kiss was merely a thank you, but those that followed were hard and wet. Bruce kissed him back just as eagerly, tasting like wine.

Heady.

Clark wasn’t sure how they made it to his bedroom without tripping over anything; maybe he flew them, he couldn’t remember. But then they were in his room, Bruce wearing only his pants, then only his boxer-briefs, then nothing at all, cock jutting forwards. Clark looked over the expanse of muscle and scarred skin. His body was flawed but gorgeous in its own way. Each scar was a life saved.

He kissed Bruce some more, and as he did he ran his hands over the sinewy muscle of his chest, then shoulders, and finally squeezed that ass. Bruce had a great ass. Too bad Batman wore that cape, functional though it may be. He squeezed again, and his fingertips brushed against something that definitely wasn’t Bruce’s sculpted ass.

It was _in_ his ass, and... rubber?

He opened his eyes and looked into those damn twinkling blue ones. The ‘I have a secret’ gleam. “What’s that?”

“Plug. To keep me open.” A smirk spread across Bruce’s face as much as a smirk could.

“What? Why?”

“You’re going to fuck me.”

“What?”

“You. Are going. To top me.”

Clark blinked. “Really?” They’d each begun this relationship having never bottomed for another man before, both preferring to top. They’d satisfied themselves in a variety of different ways, from mutual masturbation up to fellatio, and they’d gotten quite creative at it. They hadn’t broached the subject of penetration since their first night together, and Clark hadn’t seen a problem with it. Everything was going fine. But if Bruce wanted to submit...

“Yes, really. I’ve thought about it, and I enjoy what we have enough to want to try more. Life is about trying new things, and right now I’m willing to take this step.” The smile faded and Clark could see how serious he was.

Well. His words weren’t exactly ‘I need to feel your cock inside me before I explode’ or something equally erotic, but it was Bruce. It would do.

He could have made a crude hand gesture and it would do.

“If you’re sure.”

Bruce gave a brief, determined nod, and Clark let himself access his fantasies about what it would be like to finally get inside Bruce. Oh yes. Sweat and skin and strength and power, maybe a handcuff or two...

“Come on, Clark. I’d like to join you, but if you’d rather come in your pants thinking about it, at least strip down so I can watch the show.”

Clark opened his eyes and felt his cheeks grow hot. He hadn’t quite realized he was still dressed. It only took a second to strip down, and then he could press against Bruce skin to skin from head to toe. He kissed him again, another thank you, and asked “You really want this? I mean, when did you even put that in?”

“Before I made dinner. Wanted to get used to it. Figured once I offered, you’d just want to get down to it.” Leave it to Bruce to take away some of the intimacy, the need for preparation, but if he felt he needed to in order to be comfortable, then so be it.

“So, a couple of hours...” And why was that hot? Was it really that comfortable that Bruce could walk and sit with it? He guessed so. He wanted to be ready for him, for Clark. Lubed himself up and put it in there and... “Well, damn.”

“Have I reduced Clark ‘The Boy Scount’ Kent to profanity?”

“Hell, yes.”

Bruce chuckled, that low sound that Clark could feel vibrate through him, they were standing so close together. “Then the night is already a success.”

“It was the second I walked in and saw you.” Well, that was schmaltzy, but the flow of his blood was definitely not towards his brain right now. 

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Just fuck me before this turns into some Lifetime movie.”

“Trust me, if what we’re about to do was in a Lifetime movie, they’d have better ratings.”

“Shut up,” Bruce offered amiably as he reached a hand around to grabbed Clark’s ass, pressing their bodies further together. It felt good, his hand and the resulting closeness, and Clark simultaneously pushed Bruce backwards and rolled them over, so that Clark lay on his back on the bed with Bruce straddling him. He wrapped a hand around Bruce’s cock and stroked.

Bruce closed his eyes and sighed, and rocked with the motion of Clark’s hand. As if Clark needed more things to turn him on. “Do you think you’re ready?”

“I think so.” There wasn’t a hesitation, not really, but this was a big step, Bruce giving himself to him like this. Well, that made it sound like Bruce was some maiden giving him her cherry. That was all kinds of wrong.

“Just making sure. You can say no.”

Bruce poked at and then slid one fingertip up Clark’s cock. “Tell him that.”

Clark shuddered. “Well, if you put it like that...” He would always allow Bruce to tell him no, but he’d be mighty disappointed if he did right now.

“Let me just...” Bruce climbed off of him and reached into the night table by the bed. He returned and settled back on top of him while showing a bottle. “I got new lube.” They only had any because Bruce was circumcised, the poor guy, and it made jerking him off easier, but now they really needed it.

Unless Bruce was more into pain than Clark ever thought he was. Best not to think about it right now.

“Can I?” Clark reached around and stroked his fingers down Bruce’s spine until he reached the rubber plug.

“Please.”

Bruce raised himself higher so Clark had a better angle. “Stop me if it hurts or something.”

“It hurt getting it in. It should come out okay.”

All the same, Clark watched Bruce’s face as he started to slide the plug out. “Wait. Condom?”

Bruce pointed near Clark’s head. “New box.” 

Clark reached for it and opened it and pulled one out, and carefully peeled open the foil. He rolled it on slowly; it’d been a while since he wore one. Bruce dumped lube on his latex-clad cock, assessed it, then dumped on more before smearing it all over.

Clark returned to his task, and again watched Bruce’s eyes. This time they stayed open, and they burned into his like _he_ had the heat vision. It felt like forever, but in a few seconds the plug was out. Bruce moved up a little and gripped Clark’s cock and came back down on top of it. Easier for him to put it in than Clark, he guessed. And whatever helped Bruce be comfortable, feel in control. He knew that was important to Bruce. It was _Bruce_.

The tip of his cock was against him, then _in_ him. Wow. All of the head in, as Bruce frowned in concentration. Another inch as Bruce lowered himself. It was... different... than it had ever been with a woman. Both the sensation, and the emotion behind it. Hell, even different than with other guys. He didn’t think he’d ever deflowered someone before, but this was Bruce Wayne. _Batman_. A thrill shot through him.

...jeez, cherries and flowers. If Bruce could read his thoughts he’d hurt him good.

Bruce stopped and reached down for the lube. He poured some on his fingers and then they disappeared around his back again. Clark felt them slide along his cock. Bruce slid more of him inside, and Clark just let him do the work. He didn’t want to hurt him by rushing.

Finally Bruce stopped, and Clark was surprised at how much of him was inside. Not all, but almost. “You okay?” Bruce nodded, but Clark had to focus his vision to make sure he was breathing. “How does it feel?”

“Full.” _Full_? Was that good or bad?

He decided it must be pretty good when Bruce rose again then came back down, and gave out a little moan. A few more times, and... “It’s better now. Doesn’t hurt.” He rocked back a little, changing the angle. When he came back down that time his eyes widened. “Much better.” He worked himself in that position, faster and faster, and wrapped a hand around his half-hard cock.

Clark fought to keep his grin from spreading, but lost. The better Bruce felt, the better Clark felt. Emotionally, yes, but the faster Bruce moved, the better it felt on his cock, the faster little bolts of pleasure shot through him. Bruce was so hot and tight inside, a balance for all he was at times emotionally cold and indifferent on the outside. He couldn’t control inside. ...actually, knowing Bruce, if he really wanted to... But oh. He did tighten around him, then again and again, like he’d done this a thousand times before.

The room was filled with the sounds of their panting and the wet sound of lubed flesh, and they were both sweaty. There was just so much _testosterone_ in the air, Clark almost felt like he could taste it, but then Bruce pinched one of his nipples and he focused his attention back to the man on top of him. “You want to switch positions?”

“You sure?”

“Might as well try one you want. Your birthday.”

“Like you haven’t given me enough.”

“I’ve liked it so far, so this isn’t all entirely selfless. You know I don’t do things unwillingly.” Clark wasn’t positive Bruce did ‘selfless’ ever. And now that he thought about it, there would probably be repercussions of this gift soon to follow. What did Bruce have in mind? There were endless possibilities.

“All right. On your knees. And hands.” Bruce raised an eyebrow, but slowly raised himself off of Clark. They got into position, Bruce on his hands and knees with Clark behind him, and Clark took a moment and savored it. Bruce ready for him, open, waiting for him, trusting him... He tamped down another spike of arousal.

He ran a hand down the strong back in front of him, pressed a kiss to one shoulder and then the other. He knelt up behind him after slathering more lube on himself, spread Bruce and spared a thought for future sessions where he explored his dark knight to the fullest, and pressed inside. This position was maybe better already; he could go deeper, and until Bruce told him to stop he was going to keep going.

He wrapped his fingers around Bruce’s hips and pulled him towards him and Bruce grunted. “You okay?”

“Keep going.”

Clark complied and he moved faster, the slap of their bodies louder, sharper. Bruce tightened on him again and Clark groaned. He may have squeezed his hands a little too tightly that time. But it felt so good, heat pooling in his center, more and more every thrust. Something peaked but it wasn’t enough, and he worked a little faster, but was mindful of staying at a speed Bruce could take. He wanted Bruce to consent to this again.

A little more, a little more... Finally it was enough, and he felt the orgasm in his fingers and toes and maybe even his eyelids, and he may have yelled Bruce’s name or maybe he didn’t say anything at all, he could only let it all roll through him as he shuddered.

When he was done- it felt like an eternity but coming only took a few seconds, right? A few wonderful, amazing, care-free seconds- he pulled slowly out of Bruce, trying not to shock the man’s body more than it had been. He gave a gentle squeeze to one cheek before stripping off the condom and throwing it out.

Back to Bruce again, he helped him roll over onto his back. He kissed him fiercely, wanting Bruce to feel as good as he did. A calloused hand raked through his hair and used it to tug his head back. “Good?”

“Like nothing else.” And Clark remembered he still had worked to do. He rubbed a hand down Bruce’s chest to his abs and then to his cock, stroked it a few times, then replaced his hand with his mouth. He felt the cock harden and used his tongue and throat to work Bruce towards his own orgasm. He pulled at Bruce’s hip to indicate he should fuck his mouth; it wasn’t like he had to worry about hurting him, or choking him.

Bruce took advantage of the offer, one hand clamped onto the back of Clark’s head as he worked himself, until he grunted and came, body shuddering until it merely twitched then stopped completely. Clark finally pulled off and looked past the expanse of muscle and scar tissue into tired but bright eyes. “Good?”

“Clark... It’s always good. This time was no exception. Even moreso.”

Clark repositioned himself evenly with Bruce so they could talk. “What about... everything?”

“Actually not bad. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but I’d do it again if you wanted to.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. I like being with you.”

“I like being with you, too.” Okay, so it wasn’t a declaration of love, their relationship wasn’t there yet, but Bruce wasn’t the most demonstrative man, and Clark didn’t want to leap too far ahead of him.

Bruce closed his eyes. “Give me a minute to remember how to walk, and then we can go get birthday pie.”

“There’s _pie_ , too? This is the best birthday ever. Thank you, for _everything_. It was all so... personal.”

Bruce, his eyes still closed, smiled. “You’re so easy to please.”

“No, I’m not. You just know all the right hot spots. Maybe one day I’ll find all of yours.”

“That or die trying.”

Clark felt that was a feasible option, given the man who spoke, but he did want to try to make up for not going all out for Bruce’s birthday like he did his. “So what do you want for your next birthday?”

“It’s three hundred and fifty-five days away. We have time. Actually, you probably really _don’t_ want to give me too much time to think about it.” He opened his eyes and smirked wickedly.

“But you did so much for me, and I barely did anything for you.”

“We spent as much time together as our jobs allowed. Or consider tonight a mutual birthday. We both got things we wanted. And you’ve given me a lot of things, birthday or not.” Bruce turned onto his side to look Clark straight in the eyes. “And besides, yours only comes every four years. So we have to make it count when it does come around.” There was another mirthful gleam in his eyes, and Clark shook his head.

“You’re something else, Bruce.”

“And yet here we are.”

“And the pie is where, in the kitchen?”

“One track mind.”

“Well, if you want to add another, I can eat it off of you...”

Bruce closed his eyes and groaned happily. “You’re on, Boy Scout.”

Maybe Clark really _was_ easy to please. But was that necessarily bad?

Besides, it was his _birthday_. And it only came once every four years.


End file.
